The Lawless Man With A Thousand Chains

004 Sovereign Arts

The Iceman's neck flushed dark red. This young man had somehow figured out his deepest, most shameful secret and said it out loud in front of his men! He couldn't let it slide.

He lunged, throwing a heavy right hook at Damon. Damon caught the fist in his left hand without effort, as if it were a child's punch.

Damon's right hand darted forward, striking quick, precise points along the Iceman's midsection. A final palm strike to the chest sent him flying backward into the wall.

As the Iceman slid down, gasping for breath, Damon rose from his seat. "Congratulations. Your impotence is cured. Now pay me a hundred grand for my services."

The Coldblood goons looked scandalized and furious. This audacious youngster had attacked their boss and now called the assault a healing service? Such mockery warranted instant retribution!

They turned towards Damon, about to rush him, when the Iceman's voice cut through the chaos. "Stop! Everyone, stand down!"

They froze, staring at him in confusion. The Iceman was on his feet, one hand pressed to his crotch. His expression shifted from fury to disbelief, then settled into something like relief.

Tears welled in his eyes. "I… I can feel it. It's working! My impotence is indeed cured!"

The mob boss raised his gaze. Damon's overwhelming strength and skill now made sense to him. "Are you a miracle healer? No, you must be an arcane master of medicine! I apologize for all the trouble! If I had known—"

"Enough," Damon cut him off. "Pay up and leave with your minions. I'll use this bedroom tonight."

The Iceman pulled a debit card from his pocket and held it out with both hands like an offering. "I dare not call this a payment, great master. It is a small tribute for your merciful healing."

Watching his boss submit to Damon, Daryl came to his senses too and bowed low, Lila following suit. "Forgive us, sir! We will never repeat this mistake!"

Damon dropped the card on the nightstand and jumped into bed. "Don't scam anyone else. Now, all of you, get out. I want to sleep."

"Right away, master!" The Iceman barked orders and hustled his crew out of the room, clearly realizing he had run into someone far above his pay grade.

Before the door closed, Damon added, "One more thing. I lost a canvas bag at the airport. Find it."

The Iceman bobbed his head. "Consider it handled, master. If my people can't locate it, you can have my head instead."

Once they were in the hallway, the mob boss lowered his voice and spoke to his men. "Find out everything about this man. Where he came from, what is his purpose, everything! As soon as you can!"

Lila leaned in and asked him quietly, "Mr. Iceman, do you really think he's someone important?"

The Iceman chuckled at the woman's cluelessness. "Important? You fools! That man just used the rarest martial arts called the sovereign arts to defeat you."

"He applied arcane healing techniques, curing my birth defect that no doctor in the world had ever properly diagnosed all these years."

A seriousness settled over the Iceman's face. "He's extraordinary, and I fear he might be the dreaded Phantom of Tartarus Penitentiary. We need to find his provenance. Dig deep and inform me."

"I'm on it, boss," Daryl replied.

***

The next day, Vanessa pulled up outside the Meridian Grand. Damon got into the passenger seat without a word. They drove out of the city center towards the Quinn family mansion on the quieter outskirts of Dorne.

Today was her grandfather Elias Quinn's seventieth birthday, and the house was already teeming with relatives.

Elias paced the expansive living room, glancing towards the front gate every few seconds. After a while, the family butler entered.

The old man's face lit up with cautious hope. He crossed the room quickly. "Any word on my granddaughter's fiancé? Has he arrived? Or sent any message?"

The butler shook his head. "Nothing yet, sir."

Elias's jaw tightened. Periander Fox's disciple was released from prison the previous day. The marriage contract mentioned the Quinn family and their address. The young disciple should have had no issues finding them.

"Keep searching. Use every contact and resource we have. And don't come back until you have him."

Vanessa's father, Marcus Quinn, stood near the window, his arms folded. "Dad, this is ridiculous. Have you forgotten this is the twenty-first century? Old marriage contracts don't belong to these times anymore."

"Vanessa is a classy woman educated at an Ivy League university. How do you expect her to marry a recluse from the North Pole? They'll have nothing in common."

Elias turned on his son, his voice sharp and scolding. "You don't understand a damn thing, Marcus. What keeps me up at night is whether Vanessa will even be worthy of Periander Fox's disciple."

"Decades ago, when our enemies were about to destroy Dorne City, Periander Fox intervened and saved us."

"After the chaos was over, he rewarded my small favor of providing him battle intel by offering a marriage contract to his best disciple. It would be foolish to underestimate our future son-in-law."

"But Dad—"

Elias cut him off. "Periander Fox also foretold that the Quinn family's fortune ends today—on my seventieth birthday. Disaster will befall us unless a powerful protector marries into the family."

"If that young man isn't here by tonight, we're finished."

Marcus said nothing more, finding his father delusional. The Quinns were the leading business group in Dorne City, and their future looked prosperous. There were no signs of any impending catastrophe.

Just then, the front doors opened, and Vanessa stepped inside.